Monday, July 26, 2010

The Best Friend Who's A Boy

I have a best friend who happens to be a guy I dated 10 years ago for about 5 minutes. We've stayed friends over the years though he hasn't entirely gotten over his unrequited love for me. And he's definitely asked me to marry him a time or two, once to be his baby-mama and once to help me get health insurance which was sweet but he's too good of a guy to take advantage of and as a friend I think he deserves someone who will love him back. Of course that doesn't stop us from going out on dates every now and then and confusing the hell out of our public with our intimate yet non-sexual behavior.

I bring all of this up as there seems to be a question about my ability to be intimate or to want intimacy with someone and that affects how I approach each date. Obviously I don't have a problem kissing a guy in the moment such as dates 7 and 14, if I feel its appropriate, comfortable and i've had enough wine. But there seems to be some question, by some readers, as to whether or not I really want something more or I'm just playing the field for kicks and writing material.

Sure, its great to have something to write about but I am sincere in my quest.

This particular friend and I had one of our friend dates recently. And although he's a guy, they aren't usually more than food, shopping and talking about boys. We had a brunch date, he held the door for me, pulled out my chair and let me order first though he let me pick up the tab. Then we walked, hand in hand, down Bedford ave laughing about how hysterically terrible it would be if his girlfriend saw us or if one of my friends happened by, however would we explain this seemingly normal form of PDA?

He put his arm around my shoulder, around my waist, kissed my check and tried to buy me a dress. Are these not boyfriend things? I can't remember. We went shopping for his kid, for a birthday present for my friend and for a vibrator for him and his girlfriend to enjoy together. Really that last part happened cause we popped into an lingerie shop where he intended to by me something nice for my next date in no mans land... But as it turned out, the shop was more the sign said and we spent and hour with the shop girl as she explained the dozens of vibrators for individual and partner use.

We settled on a purple one tied up in a black box with a pink bow. He carried all the bags and held my hand in his other hand. As we continued walking around tone i wondered if this is something i would do with my future man? And for a split second thought how much easier my romantic life would be if i just settled for the one holding my hand. I told him this and after giving me a sloppy kiss on the hand, he said i shouldn't settle for him because as often as i tease him that he could do better than me, i too could do better than him. And tests what love is right? Wanting the best for each other?

Beyond the Birthday

As you'll notice, I have now been 27 for just shy of 7 days. I didn't post on my birthday as I was, and maybe still am, deciding how to proceed with this blog now that I'm 27 and didn't make my goal of 27 dates.

I think maybe I have more to offer than just my twisted view of the world of dating, or maybe not. There are still a lot of maybes that need to be answered so in the meantime I am going to keep dating and maybe I'll reach 28 dates before I find the answers or maybe I'll meet mister right at number 16 and this will all be over...

In my continuation, look for posts that go beyond just my bad dates and maybe we'll all learn a little more about me and the direction of this ridiculously great adventure.

DATE #14 gets a non-date 2nd chance...

Everyone was right to comment and believe that my 14th day was actually a successful date as dates go. We had a good time, enjoyed each others' company and check out some cute gay boys together. And although, while kissing, I was distracted by memories of kissing other boys and trying to compare even after great lengths of time... I still had a good time. As you all witnessed, I admitted openly that this one was probably a good one.

Well, even I can be wrong. And I'm not saying he's not a good one for someone else, but...

After my 15th date was a bit of a flop, I thought I'd be daring and invite date #14 to a party my roommates and I were hosting at our place. It was a risk but I figured why not? We have mutual friends so it can't be all bad.

The party was fun. We had a good turn out of good people and after a few beers I was hoping he wouldn't show so that I could just enjoy myself without any pressure. At about 12:30 he texts me he is on his way and by 1:15, he shows up, partly drunk and carrying a planted pot of pink flowers. Well, there went the low key good fun.

I was super polite (especially for me after a few drinks) and thanked him for embarrassing himself by delivering flowers to my home full of drunk twenty-somethings. He immediately threw back his shoulders like a proud gorilla in the jungle and set about trying to mark territory. I was hostess so I offered a beer but after being ordered to open it, I tossed it shaken in his direction and decided I was done. Some people just look different in the light and sometimes it only takes a beer or two for the truth to be true, and man, I suddenly, most definitely wasn't in to you.

As the night went on, I just ignored him. I crowd weened and soon there were maybe 7 or 8 of us sitting around while he and a buddy played Wii at 2:30 on Sunday morning. I decided, as I had no desire to play Wii with the drunk boys, that I was ready for bed and thus announced to the room that I was turning in. This promptly got the attention of date #14 who felt the need to pause his game and accompany me down the hall.

I stopped short of my bedroom door and said a polite thank you for coming it was very nice and take care, blah blah blah. I gave him a kind pat on the back hug and headed towards my room. His first mistake was to try and stop me:
"Just like that, you're just going to bed?"
"Well, yes. It's 3am and I'm tired and had enough to drink and I'd like to sleep now."
"We didn't even get to hang out."
"I said thanks for coming but it's time for me to go. to bed."
I open the door to my room and walk in, starting to close the door behind me. His second mistake was trying to stop me. He put his hand on my door to keep it open and then took a step in. I put my hand out to stop him and said, still nice, "I need to go to bed and you can't come in here."
Then he grabbed the door from me and closed it, closed himself in. Then he grabbed for my waist and try to pull me towards him, I guess not getting the "Thanks but no thanks" from our conversation.

Had I been any more sober he would have lost his balls.

I pushed him backwards, opened the door and pushed him out into the hall. He leaned back into the door frame with an "I don't understand. I just thought, come on..."
"You thought wrong. And I think you should get out."
He advanced. "Seriously?"
"You should get the fuck out now." I didn't raise my voice but at this point I could tell the rest of the apartment was quiet. He looked down the hall then back at me. Then he stomped his foot and headed for the front door, slamming it behind him, leaving the friend he brought, and the plant, both in my apartment with the other onlookers.

I shut my bedroom door and laughed for a whole minute.

He texted me maybe 20 minutes later with the "I'm confused and not happy and you need to explain." But I felt relief in knowing, that really, I don't have to explain. I don't have to explain myself to anyone but me.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

DATE #15: King Tut plays Piano

The only way to cure the uncertainty of one date is simply to go on another - but with someone else.

And to participate in an activity that is sure to be a distraction from any emotions at all - such as a trip to Times Square for the King Tut exhibition at the Discovery center, and what a discovery it was!

Picture me, rushing through Times Sq, late as always, pushing past the tourists waiting in line for their overpriced Broadway shows and pushing through the doors to the Discovery center in a rush. I burst through the doors and the place is virtually empty besides a tourist couple and my date, sitting with his legs cross, fingers tapping at his knee. He gets up to great me, and shakes my hand in a weak way and opens his mouth to say hello.

Now, I'm not judging here, but I got the distinct feeling that there was some disappointment in my appearance, as if he were hoping I'd turn out to be a guy. Yeah, I got the feeling that maybe he's gay and just in denial or still in the closet or trying to show his parent's he's making an effort... and I could be totally wrong about this, it was just a feeling - and he didn't check me out, I was wearing a low cut top and a skirt and he didn't once do the eye roll up and down.

He was however, able to feign an interest in Tutankhamun, the Boy King of Egypt. We took our tickets and entered the tour with a total of 7 other people. Our voices carried in the empty galleries over the ancient relics from Tut's tomb as we discussed our college educations, daily work life and the existence of aliens.

We discussed the possibility that in 1922, the discoverer of Tut's treasure tomb was really a talented production designer and fabricated all of the artifacts and used his tomb for cheap storage. We toyed back and forth with the alien idea again too, when you see the incredible detail in the tiny gold figures it seems humanly impossible to craft those fine details and for those of us who want to believe, the ancient Egyptian art seems like a good argument for proof of something other worldly. We walked the exhibition expressing ooohs and ahhhhs, not really reading the info plaques, more making up our own stories for the figurines depicting King Tut, his bride, his royal-ness... We raced to the end to see the real Tut, only to find (SPOILER ALERT) that he was a replica. A good replica of the mummified Boy King, but a replica none-the-less. After a few minutes rubbing his brass skull replica, we headed into the gift shop and probably spent more time there contemplating buying stuffed bear Pharaohs and pocket-sized sarcophagus's, we took the escalator up and out onto the street, back into the reality of Times Square.

As interesting as the exhibit was, it was pretty clear we didn't find each other as interesting as our new friend Tut. But in a good friendly spirit, we decided to check out a wine bar on 8th Ave. I was voting for the new Shake Shack but the line was around the block and not conducive to conversation.

We sat in the wine bar with the heat sweltering in through the open doors and he told me about life as a music teacher on the upper west side. Riveting, really. To me it seemed the best thing about being a teach is having the summer off, but for him, working at a snooty flooty upper west private school, the best stories were of students bragging about which rapper showed up at his Bar Mitzvah and comparing who got the best gifts - a yacht, a car parked at the Hamptons home ready for the kid to drive at 16, never mind the kid already had a driver... Stories of the grotesquely rich and their poor taste never gets old with me and for once I didn't have to talk about my glamorous life as a locations coordinator/wanna-be-producer. A relief.

We both drank rather quickly and were more than happy not to keep a tab open at the bar. We both, almost simultaneously, came up with the "I have some work to catch up on tonight" excuse and departed the bar in way less than an hour. He kindly walked me to the subway and we shook hands/patted on the back goodbye.

The whole time I was on the subway home, I was regretting two things only: I should have bought the mini sarcophagus complete with mini mummy for my purse and I should have stopped at Shake Shack for dinner....

DATE #14: Outside the Workplace

I have a firm no dating in the industry policy. I don't date co-workers, I don't date filmmakers. I'm very very strict about this, I just don't do it, NO, NO, NO. There is a reason I don't, it's not completely ridiculous that I don't want the entire New York film community know all about my personal life. (even if most of them read my blog...) I want to have that separation of work and life, like church and state, it's completely necessary to keep me sane!

But somehow, in some crazy turn of events, I agreed to go on a date with a co-worker - granted we are no longer working together - but I agreed nonetheless. It was part desperation for a date to add to my blog, part - he stood up to me when I bitched him out at work and that's kind of cute (you know, he tried to win a fight he just couldn't, it's cute) and part he was a real live guy asking me out and not an Internet fix up, oh, and he came with good recommendations. Alright, it was mostly, I need something interesting to write and going against everything I believe about dating in the work place seemed like an interesting subject to broach.

Of course I wasn't expecting to face the fact that this guy is the kind of guy I probably SHOULD be dating. Someone who knows what working in the biz is like, who understands the hours and crazy schedule and someone who has seen my prickly office personality and yet still finds me irresistibly adorable.

We met for drinks on a work night. I figured that way I wouldn't be committing to too much, no dinner, no staying out late, and he'd understand since we both would have to work early. I was 10 minutes late as usual, he was sitting at the bar counting down the minutes til he could declare me "that bitch who stood me up". But I showed up. Instead of a nice half hug with a pat on the back, he pulled me directly into a wet kiss on the cheek which was quite unexpected.

We got wildly expensive sugary cocktails and sat down at a table where we very quickly decided to eat. The waiter came by and my date ordered appetizers for both of us before I had a chance to even voice my opinion. I don't think I've ever had a guy order for me - I was partially flattered and partially thinking who the hell does he think he is, taking away my free will like that. It did however give me something to tease him about and despite how uncertain I felt about the evening, the teasing helped break the ice. And his appetizer choices weren't bad, that is except for the hot wings - sorry, you just don't order hot wings in a fancy restaurant where 1) you shouldn't be eating finger food and 2) you don't know that your date can't handle anything spice. Please, I'm spicy enough I don't need my food to be too.

We managed to find lots to talk about, well, we mostly talked about work but it was nice to actually have something in common with a date - other than having met online which wasn't even the case here. I agreed to move on from appetizers to dinner. Of course as soon as we order dinner, the manager comes over to tell us the kitchen is closed. It's hardly 10:30 and in a swanky joint as we were, I couldn't believe the kitchen was closed! However, for our inconvenience, we scored several free deserts and we were pretty much the last people in the restaurant, having a good time not even I can deny.

Without even checking the time on our iPhones, we went for a drink in the secret bar room next door. He grabbed the drinks and we sat on a squishy couch across from 2 girls and a guy and decided to make up stories about their lives, in my mind the guy was sleeping with both girls, one his girl friend, the other her best friend... and as I was telling my version of their story out loud, my date believed they caught wind as they stood to leave and he blushed with embarrassment. Which was kind of cute, I embarrassed a guy in public who then leaned over and told me how beautiful I am, as if I didn't know - but he was sincere and I felt a slight wave of guilt.

When the three-some left, a good-looking gay couple sat across the way and we watched as they made out in a romantic candle-lit corner. I know it may not sound romantic but it actually was quite inspiring and there wasn't any inappropriate story I could make up. I looked at my date and wondered if I would want to kiss him like that couple, and I just didn't know.

Of course, I didn't have to make a choice, just as I didn't have to pick the restaurant, or the drinks, or the appetizers, nor did I have to pick up any tab, it was a refreshing no-decision evening. And continuing with that theme, he made the choice to kiss me. I doubt we looked as good as the gay couple but it wasn't like anyone was looking. I can't say it was fireworks but it was a comfortable change for the first time since I started all this mess of dating.

The bar was closing but how could one more drink kill us? It was only 1, work will still be there if we're late... We got up to leave and he went for the rest room and while I waited by the door. A very drunk good looking Australian walked up to me and leaned his arm on the door frame over me and whispered in my ear "you look hot with your hand on your hip". I laughed a thank you as he then went off on a rant about having left his beer in the bathroom and how my date was probably peeing in his cup. I was wishing he did.

On our final drink we talked about likes and dislikes, the standard date questions finally came around after discussing a myriad of other topics from favorite travel places to intimacy differences between men and women. Somehow, I accidentally let it slip that I write a dating blog. Not sure how it came up, or why I didn't shut my mouth when he said he couldn't hear me over the music, I thought I'd be doing him a favor if I was honest.. he was definitely freaked the *@%^ out and I thought wow, this is an easy way out of something that definitely has potential to get complicated. But he didn't give in that easy. He just switched subjects and we kept right on having an oddly good time.

When it finally felt too late for either of us to be efficient at work the next day, we decided to share a cab back to Brooklyn. He dropped me at my place, but not just a drop - he had the cab wait with the meter running so he could walk me to my door and give me a good night kiss. I looked at him before I shut the door and thought dating him could be so easy but I don't know how to do easy and he's too nice - someone should warn him I'm the black widow of dating.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Future of Love

Alright my dearest readers (all 9 of you).

I have ONE WEEK to my self-imposed deadline to meet my goal of 27 dates before my 27th birthday. But now my birthday is next Tuesday and, well, it's about near impossible - unless I go on 2 dates a day for the next week - that I will meet my goal.

But I'm not a giver-upper so help me make a decision:

Do I continue to date until I hit 27 beyond my birthday, or do I give up now while I'm behind?

If I can get 100 readers in the next 7 days, I will continue to pursue my mission beyond next Tuesday. If I don't, then I'll move on. Throughout this week, I will continue to date so look for lots of updates. Share this with your friends, your family, your family friends and friends of friends and help me get 100 readers (more would be nice for my ego), and I'll keep going.

The future of my love life is in your hands.

Here's how: Become a FOLLOWER on my blog page, hit LIKE on Facebook or leave a comment on the blog or Facebook - all those hits will count (multiple hits by the same person don't though I'll appreciate the love).

Monday, July 12, 2010

DATE #13: Mr. Money Bags

Lucky number 13. Cream of the crop, perfect on paper. What girl hasn't dreamed of marrying rich and settling into a life of solitude in the suburbs? Even I've considered it in weak moments...

This guy proposed a walk on the Highline with an ice coffee and good conversation. That was his pitch. His pluses included a $200K+ salary, an apartment in Tribeca (his parents owned), a Jewish bloodline and an affinity for button-down shirts with cuff links. I've always loved a man in cuff links. But there is something about a man who talks about how much his cuff links cost that, well frankly, is a huge turn off.

It was Sunday afternoon and I hadn't heard from him so I thought our date was off. I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond to buy a curtain rod and right after I checked out, he called and wanted to see if I was still free. I should have said no, busy, let's reschedule - but I didn't. So I carried my curtain rod down to Chelsea Market where we met for an ice coffee and that walk on the Highline (which turned out to be let's sit on a bench so I don't have to walk and carry a coffee and a curtain rod and look uncomfortable while trying to look attractive).

And then we spent an hour talking about him. How refreshing, a guy who isn't interested in my glamorous movie career. We talked about his job and he was telling me about his boss and some scandal and how he was anticipating a promotion and a raise (as if he needed to make more). We talked about his Jewish grandmother and her pressure for him to settle down with a nice girl and how hard it was to find a nice Jewish girl in the city and how nice I seemed (if only he knew). I kindly commented on his cuff links, which weren't necessarily my task. They were white and yellow gold stripped and from some expensive brand that lacked for personal taste. I did think it impressive he was wearing a long sleeve button down with cuff links and slacks on a 90degree day but as we talked, about him, it seemed less likely he was dressing to impress me and more that he probably had no personal style and thus wore the same style suit every day.

I looked at him, his big Jewish nose, dark hair and bushy eye brows and thought: "Not even for all the money...."

So as an hour is winding down and I'm looking for a way out, he finally switches subjects and asks what I do. I haven't really heard a word he's said since we discussed the cuff links, I was more interested in the mix of passersby and their looks at me, sitting there, hugging my curtain rod like it's a life line.

I said I worked in film and he didn't inquire further than saying, that's probably cool - as if he'd never seen a movie and didn't care to know what they were like. I excused myself with a "I've had too much coffee and think I have a stomach ache". He didn't seem to mind. He didn't even walk me to the train but shook my hand goodbye right there on the Highline and me and my curtain rod walked away...

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Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Flirting with the Law

My time is running out! In just a few short weeks I'll hit my deadline and I won't have made my goal! Desperate times call for desperate measures!

I was walking into the subway station at Union Square when I was un-expectantly stopped by a police officer and asked to show the contents of my bag to a group of officers standing at a table nearby. It was a random routine check. Good thing I had a box of tampons falling out of a Duane Reade bag spilling all over the inside of my bag.

I've always had a thing for men in uniform. Not the janitor uniform but a nice military-esque, police, fireman - the authoritative kind of uniform. It's the discipline and power vibe that rolls off uniformed men that can be a turn on. I'm always looking for someone tougher than myself, and it's a bonus if he can wield a gun. Of course I am very aware that not every uniformed man is an independently thinking, intelligent, sexy, gun-wielding super guy, but a girl can always hope.

Of the three officers at the search table, the young, fairly handsome and single (no ring) one steps up to me. I sighed in relief and smiled sweetly as I handed him my bag. I of course then suffered a severe Homer Simpson moment, wanting to slap my head with my hand as he started emptying the bag on the table. I can't believe how much shit I carry. He didn't seem bothered by the tampons, the 3 half-used chapsticks, the half-eaten granola bar... he smiled and said everything was fine and helped me push the crap back into my bag. Our hands briefly touched.

I said thank you and started to walk away, but as I reached in my bag, I couldn't find my metrocard! I went back to the table, looked over and under and it wasn't there. The officer helped me look but then pulled out his own metrocard (or his City-issued one) and swiped me through the "special entrance" gate. I dug my hand back in my bag and pulled out a card.

"Just in case", I said. He winked and I walked away. I'm sure that ended up in the nearest trashcan but what a lovely thought...